


turkish delight

by dirtychai



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, F/M, False Memories, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28605285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtychai/pseuds/dirtychai
Summary: “some of my best memories are of food. perhaps they can become yours too.”—eleazar “lazar” azoulayor lazar takes bell on a culinary journey to discover herself when all was lost.
Relationships: Background Bell & Russell Adler, Bell & Eleazar “Lazar” Azoulay
Kudos: 11





	turkish delight

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: once again swept into the unfortunate life of loving secondary characters. but how could you say no to a face like lazar?

##  turkish delight

_“some of my best memories are of food. perhaps they can become yours too._ ”  
— **eleazar “lazar” azoulay x bell**   


> * * *

you expected death to be darkness. perhaps only broken with occasional wisps of flames and the stench of brimstone. regardless of ones faith, the imagination created the greatest wonders and nightmares of the unknown. 

what you didn’t anticipate was the smell of sea salt and something aromatically woodsy in fragrance. 

it’s what billows under your body, slowly bringing to the rise of clarity. but rather than understanding, you’re met with a sharp pang in your chest. 

with a harsh gasp, you immediately try to curl in on yourself, the action worsening the pain as you tremble in the aftershocks. the pleasant scent you’d been chasing is lost the the crackle of gunfire and the deafening roar of the cliffside waters below. the splintered fragments of one of your last memories- an authentic recollection- was of russell adler shooting you point blank.

your measly records, mostly fabricated as they were, didn’t lie about your skill set. you were quick to react at the slightest hint of danger. but it wasn’t fast enough. 

frankly, what _would_ you have done, had the shot connected with its intended target?

you, a broken soviet contact turnjacket versus a man with medals that could have spanned the walls of whatever dark corner cell they would have thrown you in. perhaps adler’s methods, though unsanctioned, were ideal. and could have saved you a great deal of turmoil had it actually finished the job. 

“hey … careful with those stitches. i may be a good cook but those are where my talents cut off. but i did what i could.”

the voice though alarmed, took great care not to raise to the volume it could have. it was comforting. meeting it’s well intended goal as the hair at your nape slowly fell with recognition. you _knew_ that voice. 

more importantly what accompanied it. 

the rapid returning uptick of your heartbeat had to be audible as it rapped against your ribcage. from what you could tell, no part of you was presently restrained but that didn’t mean you weren’t detained. adler did not complete his objective, but you weren’t an end that could remain loose. 

and if death was his last resort. you weren’t keen on waiting to find out what came after. 

“relax, _mami_ *. you are safe.”

then in an odd form of constraints, two large hands cupped your cheeks rather than constrict around your wrist. your own hands paused minutely just short of his neck where you could still very easily bring them up and squeeze. however, as your vision finally cleared, all you were left to do was stare up at the face of eleazar azoulay.

lazar.

his skin still wore some of the worst of both havana and solovsky; a stretch of abrasions and scratches that would take time to heal. ones that he should have all the time in the world to allow them to as he basked in the afterglow of victory.  not hide them in a minimalistic room. the walls too thin and surrounding noises too close in reach to be considered a home. wherever he brought you was somewhere closer to civilization than you had been in berlin. 

“lazar.” came your first reply since seemingly returning from the dead. a simple word ready to burst at the seams from all the emotions thrashing around inside you.

you could feel his answering chuckle, breathless but lacking any real humor. but relief was there. solace in the fact that you’d remembered. after _weeks_ of making you think that everything was as it should be. 

though instead of rising to the anger, you sagged in defeat. 

“...lazar.”

because that was all you could manage. 

lazar. 

not adler. 

pools of dark brown shined with something you couldn’t quite comprehend as his thumbs rubbed warmth into the swell of your cheeks. you wondered how cold you must be for him to feel so inviting. 

“life for a life, my friend. i only wish i could have been sooner.”

though you doubted much would have changed. adler was not a man that could be reasoned with and in comparison, lazar lacked the authority to challenge. still you wondered what it might have looked like, a knight in bloodied clothing coming to your rescue. 

you probably would have shot him too. 

all of them for pulling you through living hell. and not even having the audacity to let you earn the scorch marks as yourself. even now across the finish line, you weren’t sure who crossed the threshold. 

lazar spoke in the absence of your speech. “we’re far from solovetsky. back in another safehouse of mine. somewhat better than the last, i suppose. i almost forgot it was here.” he’s delaying the inevitable. adding verbosity to a mission brief when he should have been listing the cold facts. yet you didn’t mind as you found yourself sinking back into the stiff mattress with each continued stroke of his calloused fingers. 

“we’re in nice. cleared, of course.”

right. because asking him to run away with you would have been more than your ledger could account for. 

his thumbs pause as his face hardens in preparation of his next words,” it was a clean shot, through and through. just missed your heart. though it may have nicked a rib.“ his tongue darts out to wet his lips, an action you follow in dazed silence. “... adler. he gave you nine days to recover before you’re to present before the board. we’re six days out now.”

adler. 

six days. 

board. 

stacked on top of each other, they made for a formidable tower of your greatest fears. all ready to topple down at any moment. lazar had saved you, yes, but in order to subject you to what?

the firmness of his grip brought you back to attention as your cheeks pursed. “but we still have time to address that. for now you rest.”

even in the chaos of your mind, you agreed that he was right. you would need all your strength to face the music awaiting you in the near future. 

finally his hands drew away and you licked your own lips, catching the faint taste of gunpowder against the cracked ridges. 

first rest.

“and then?”

you wished you could package that grin. tuck it away and only unwrap it when the worst of the world came against you. it was a smile that nudged away the encroaching darkness at the recesses of your mind and left behind a gentle glow. 

“then we eat. i’m making shawarma.”

* * *

in hindsight, perhaps graciously seasoned meat still glistened with oil was the last thing you should have put on an empty stomach. but this was the aroma that had brought you back from the dead, it was unlikely to make your grave. 

you could taste all the ingredients you’d managed to piece together prior and something more. a strong blend that you couldn’t decipher without help. 

“what spice is this?”

already well into his second helping, lazar rose to the hidden compliment. “spice _s_. za'atar. its a blend of sumac, marjoram, sesame seeds and a few other things my _savta*_ covets as a family secret. it’s good, no?”

it was. very good. and if stuffing more down your throat wouldn’t result in an unfortunate reappearance less than an hour later, you might have welcomed more. 

“i didn’t know you could cook so well.”

_eating,_ you knew he did very well. despite the drab and outskirt safehouse in west berlin, lazar never failed to have some sort of food stashed away- rarely any of them the rations you might have expected. that and his assortment of food related clothing choices made him look like quite the connoisseur. 

“growing up with a family like mine meant learning fast or you didn’t eat. every hand was there to aid in the kitchens.”

your family had- well, adler’s injections of vividly colored memories had not only not skipped over that aspect of your finely threaded life but also managed to weigh down on the scraps of what could have been your actual recollections. right now you couldn’t even picture what your household looked like. if it was full or lacking. did you wake up every morning to the smell of pancakes or did you make your own bowl of cereal alone at the table?

adler had managed to rip away such an intimate part of you. distant echos of what you were before everything. 

lazar’s brow rose as your chewing slowed. “i can’t right my wrongs. neither can anyone. we all dealt with the hand we were given. those some more poorly than others. but you have more people on your side than you think. “

you immediately think of woods and mason. two figures who’d been more receptive to your skill set than your past. maybe sims to, if he shared the same sentiments through his friendship with lazar. 

park. 

would you even be in this outcome had you chosen differently in havana?

it had been a split decision in the heat of the moment, relied purely on proximity above all else. it made sense to reach for the closet body for extraction first. but you thought- 

it hardly mattered now. 

you pushed your half eaten plate to the center of the table, hoping to end both the meal and conversation. 

rest first, then eat. 

hopefully you could rest a little more before everything started to blur again. 

accepting the silence yet again, lazar nods as he brings your plate closer to polish off the remains, content to let you fall back into the abyss of your mind. as your gaze drifts to the rapidly clearing plate , you found yourself wondering what pleasant smells would wake you tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> * mami — israeli tern of endearment which means “sweetie” or “honey”
> 
> you can find me on my [tumblr](https://spacemilkies.tumblr.com/) where i post more memes and pretty pictures than i write


End file.
